


Curtains and Consequences

by Litsetaure



Series: Magical Mishaps [2]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: A bit of swearing, Bathilda ships it, Crack, Fluff, Gellert is a dramatic tease, M/M, Smut, Summer of 1899, Young Albus Dumbledore, Young Gellert Grindelwald, albus is a little shit, inappropriate use of magic, these boys are actual disasters, what the hell did I write??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-21
Updated: 2019-03-21
Packaged: 2019-11-27 01:50:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18188225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Litsetaure/pseuds/Litsetaure
Summary: Follow-up to Spell Damage and How (Not) to Solve it.Bathilda finds out about her curtains. How much trouble are the boys in?





	Curtains and Consequences

**Author's Note:**

> Gellert's oath 'by the Lorelei' is, I'm told a reference to Lorelei, a beautiful siren from German folklore.

“So.” Bathilda Bagshot stood and watched the two boys with her arms folded and both eyebrows raised. “Would either of you like to explain to me exactly what has been going on while I’ve been away? Well, besides the obvious,” she added, eyeing their rumpled clothes and tangled hair.

Albus blushed and shuffled his feet, but Gellert did not even flinch. “We were simply trying out some new spells, Tante,” he said smoothly. “Though I can see that some turned out more destructive than others.”

Albus quickly suppressed a snort of disbelief. _More destructive than others. That is certainly one way of putting it, I suppose._ He hoped fiercely that Bathilda would nod and accept it as them just trying something interesting, but he was certain that would not happen this time.

Sure enough, the historian nodded as though she was examining an intriguing magical manuscript. “I see,” she said slowly. “And which of these spells, may I ask, led to my curtains being all but incinerated?”

“Well, you see -” started Albus, but immediately trailed off when he realised he had no good answer.

Gellert, however, shrugged. “That one was not my fault,” he insisted. “Albus turned me into a dragon.”

“A dragon?” Bathilda turned her full attention on Albus, who quickly moved away, the backs of his legs hitting the chair. “And how did you manage that one? Transfiguration gone a little wrong? Or maybe you found some very old books hidden in the back of my library?” She tilted her head. “Curiosity is not a sin, dear, but you should certainly be careful of how you use it. You said it yourself, remember?”

“I suppose I won’t be in any less trouble if I say it wasn’t my idea?” ventured Albus. Even as he spoke the words sounded stupid.

“You still did it though,” muttered Gellert.

“Because you _told me to_!” Albus shot back.

“Actually, I think I -”

“It doesn’t matter who’s idea it was!” Bathilda cut in, sounding so fierce suddenly that both boys jumped and backed away. “What does matter now is that I appear to be in need of a new pair of curtains, and you two appear to be in need of some...stimulation.”

“Not really, we have plenty of -” began Gellert, but Albus clamped his hand over his mouth before he could finish.

“What do you want us to do?” he asked as Gellert glared at him.

Bathilda produced a long roll of blue fabric and spread it over the table with a triumphant smile. “Well, now you can make me a nice new set of curtains to replace the ones you set on fire!”

Albus stared at her in astonishment, but Gellert laughed. “Tante, honestly, surely you can find something better for us to do?” He ignored Albus’ frantic gestures to stop and be quiet. “After all, I think we can make you some curtains quite easily. Look.” He flicked his wand casually at the material and waited, apparently in anticipation of a beautiful new set of curtains.

The fabric, however, clearly had other ideas, as it soared through the air towards Gellert. Albus just managed to get out of the way and watched, half in horror and half in astonishment as it started wrapping itself around his lover as if he were a mummy being bandaged up.

“Oh dear,” said Bathilda, unable to hide a slight smirk. “Did I forget to mention that this particular fabric is known to be rather antagonistic towards magic? Still, at least now you can find other ways to keep your hands busy. Have fun, boys!” She handed a now violently blushing Albus a case of needles and two reels of cotton, winked at him and closed the door behind her.

Gellert finally untangled himself from the fabric and shoved it back onto the table. “This is all your fault,” he muttered, glaring at the floor as though it had committed the most heinous crime.

“ _My_ fault?!” Albus spluttered. “I think I was the one who said this whole thing was a bad idea - and you said that if anything went wrong you would take full responsibility for it. Or were you just saying that so I would agree?”

Gellert blushed. “Maybe,” he admitted. “But you still turned me into a dragon, and not even a proper one, more like a slightly magical lizard."

“And you set fire to my hair, which, by the way, hurt more than the scratches.” Albus shrugged. “As far as I’m concerned, that makes us even.”

“Oh, no, it does not!” snapped Gellert as he threw himself into a chair. “You know, I could live with being a tiny dragon, Albus. I didn’t even really mind the pathetic little sparks. They’re more fun than not being able to breathe fire, after all. Even almost being suffocated by a book was tolerable, especially compared to the fact that _you_ _magicked away my cock_!”

“Believe me, that was just as much of a shock for me as it was for you,” replied Albus. “And, as you have proven to great effect over the last few days, you did get it back.” He eyed Gellert carefully. “I would, however, advise that you do not try to return the favour, since I am sure that would be more of a punishment for you than it would be for me.”

Gellert muttered something extremely rude under his breath, but the darkening flush on his cheeks said more than any words could. “Right, well, I suppose we’d better get this over with.” He grabbed a pair of scissors and started angrily cutting at the fabric.

“Merlin, Gellert!” exclaimed Albus as he hurried to rescue the fabric from imminent death. “It’s only a pair of curtains, you don’t have to act like a dragon falling onto a piece of meat!” He winced when Gellert glared at him. “All right, sorry. Not the best choice of words there. But seriously, there’s no need to be so melodramatic about it.”

He picked up a length of fabric and held it up against the window, chewing his lip. “Throw me some pins, will you? Not literally,” he added as Gellert made to toss the pincushion at his head. “Oh, and bring the rest of the fabric over with you.”

Half an hour, several near misses on falling off the window ledge, and a couple of pricked fingers later, they finally had a pair of neatly cut curtains ready to be sewn up. At this point, Albus was poking through the box of sewing supplies and trying to find a thread colour that would match the fabric to his satisfaction.

“For Merlin’s sake, Albus,” groaned Gellert sad yet another colour was scrutinised and discarded, “it’s only a pair of curtains. Just pick some thread and let’s get on with it.”

“I have told you time and time again, Gellert,” replied Albus calmly, “if something is worth doing -”

“It is worth doing well, yes, I know.” Gellert rolled his eyes again. “You are such a perfectionist, do you know that? I’m starting to think I should leave you to sew these bloody curtains yourself, since you’re obviously going to be scrutinising every single stitch.”

“Actually, that might be the best idea you’ve had today,” Albus admitted. “I have seen some of your sewing skills, and frankly, they do leave something to be desired. I think even Aberforth could do neater buttonholes than you did on your jacket.” He shook his head in disapproval.

Gellert’s right eye twitched a little and, not for the first time, he said something that Albus was sure he would never have dared say in front of Bathilda. Still, he grabbed a nearby book and flounced off, dropping onto the sofa with a wounded huff.

Rolling his eyes and tutting at his overly dramatic lover, Albus finally selected an acceptable colour of thread and a needle and got to work. He tuned out the sound of Gellert loudly flipping through his book and tossing and turning on the sofa as he tried to sit comfortably. The quicker he got these curtains done, after all, the quicker they would be able to go back to doing much more _enjoyable_ things.

He managed to sew quietly and with no interruptions for about half an hour, his attention entirely focused on making the stitching as neat as possible, when he felt something brush through the tips of his hair and across his neck. He looked around, wondering if Gellert had left the room or opened a window. But he was still lying on the sofa, apparently completely lost in whatever he was reading, so Albus just shrugged and went back to work, thinking it must have just been a draught of wind from the chimney.

But a minute later, it started up again, only this time, it felt different, warmer, closer and stronger. It trailed over the back of his neck and down his spine, leaving hot shivers in its wake.

Albus clamped his lips together and shook himself as he tried to concentrate. _Breathe,_ he instructed himself, _in and out, in and out. Focus on what you’re doing, nothing else. Small neat stitches, careful, don’t get the thread tangled, watch the fabric doesn’t tear..._

But his calming mantras faded away in the face of the warmth washing over him, stroking his stomach and gliding over his waist and down towards his hips, caressing him with the sensual whisper of a lover, or the brush of lips over his waiting skin.

“Are you all right over there?” Gellert’s voice suddenly cut in, breaking the spell. “Only, you’re wriggling around like a trapped spider and you look a little...flushed.”

The lingering drawl on the last word jolted Albus back to reality. “You...” he gasped and shook his head. “I should have known.”

“I have no idea what you are talking about,” said Gellert, though the twinkle in his eyes belied his innocent tone. “I have not moved from this spot since you banished me from your side.”

“I would hardly say banished - _ah_!” Albus nearly shot out of his chair as a flood of molten heat cascaded inside him. “What are you...stop it, Gellert! I’m trying to concentrate!” He clamped his legs together and gritted his teeth, but could not stop himself from reacting to what Gellert was doing, and a breathless gasp of pleasure escaped him before he could stop it.

“I don’t know what exactly you think it is I’m doing,” said Gellert, affecting an affronted expression. “As you can see, my wand is right where I left it. It is hardly my fault that you apparently find sewing so erotic, is it?”

“We both know that you don’t need a wand to do this,” said Albus, relaxing as he felt the wild magic retreat, leaving only a faint warmth that suffused through him. He let out a shaky gasp and leaned back in his chair. “And you should know that if you were trying to blackmail me into altering my opinions on your sewing skills, then you failed miserably. I’m afraid I cannot be so easily swayed.” He started to thread the needle again, even as his fingers quivered with lingering arousal.

“Oh, Albus, you wound me with your lack of trust,” purred Gellert, his lips brushing Albus’ ear. “Could it not be simply that I was drawn to you by how incredibly arousing you look when deep in concentration?”

“Somehow I doubt that very much,” huffed Albus, hoping it had not been too obvious that his heart had nearly jumped into his throat when he felt Gellert’s whisper. “Or, at least, I doubt that was your only motivation. You are as dramatic as a peacock, Gellert Grindelwald, and we both know it.”

“True, true,” Gellert allowed. “But then, Albus, if you could just see what I see, you could never resist yourself.”

“I’m sure I could,” muttered Albus, but he leaned back and shuddered as Gellert’s lips nibbled and sucked on his neck. “Merlin’s beard, Gellert, if you don’t stop that, I’m never going to...”

“You are utterly enchanting,” groaned Gellert, his fingers sliding under Albus’ shirt to glide over his chest, massaging his pert nipples. “I can feel you almost burning for me, desperately aching for my touch. By the Lorelei, Albus, you’re calling out for me, without words, but with your wild eyes, the crashing of your heart against my palm.” His fingers slipped further down, beneath the waistband of Albus’ trousers, stroking long and slow circles into the overheated skin beneath his hand. “I thought you would like that,” he drawled as Albus whimpered and bucked against him, “and you cannot even begin to imagine how much I would love to watch you come apart in my hands. But alas,” he signed mournfully and withdrew, straightening up again, “now is not the time.”

Albus almost cried at the sudden loss of contact. “I…you…what?”

“Didn’t you say you had a set of curtains to finish? I would hate to have disturbed you.”

“Oh, don’t you even think about it.” Albus whirled around, unsure if he felt more aroused or furious at that moment. “Curtains or no curtains, you are coming right back here and finishing what you started.”

“Hmm.” Gellert tilted his head thoughtfully. “Are you sure, Albus? Only, I thought you wanted to concentrate -”

“Gellert, I promise you, if you leave me hanging like this, I am going to go straight back home and take matters into my own hands!” growled Albus. “I mean it,” he said, watching Gellert’s eyes go large with shock. “I would do it. Don’t think for one second that -” but he was cut off when Gellert crossed the room again and kissed him hard, almost knocking him back off the chair. “I thought that would be your response,” he breathed. “Knew you couldn’t resist me for very long, curtains or -”

The end of his sentence died in his throat when Gellert’s hand pressed up against his crotch. He yelped and jerked his hips towards, begging for more contact. “Don’t you dare stop there,” he eventually gasped out.

“Oh, I have no intention of doing any such thing,” Gellert assured him. He slid down to the floor and under the table and unfastened Albus’ trousers, running his hand over the length of his burning erection. “Oh, Albus, look at you, so hot and ready for me. But I wonder, could you keep your mind enough to concentrate on your work and not attract any attention...if I was to do this?”

Albus grabbed at the fabric he had just finished hemming as he felt Gellert’s finger brush against him, opening him up before sliding inside and stroking him. The small part of his brain that was still capable of rational thought told him that Gellert must have cast a lubricating spell at some point, but that train of thought was abruptly driven away when Gellert’s finger brushed against _that_ spot, sending tingles all through his lower body and almost causing him to snap the thread he was using.

Gellert’s laugh suddenly vibrated against his thigh. “Are you sure you’re all right up there? Do you need me to slow down? Or maybe I should stop and give you some peace?”

“Don’t…don’t you dare.” Albus pushed down, forcing Gellert to move further inside him. “Don’t you even fucking dream of stopping for anything. I can take it, I can focus on…oh, _fuck_!” He almost squealed as Gellert added a second finger, stretching him and filling him up even more. But even as he gasped and panted, contracting his muscles around Gellert’s fingers, he kept his own hands busy by sewing the hooks onto the curtains. He was not going to let Gellert win this little game for anything, no matter how much he wanted to let go and give himself up to the blonde’s ministrations.

“Well, well, well.” This time,Gellert’s voice sounded hoarse and dark, dripping with a combination of lust and intrigue. “You really are going to make this hard for me, aren’t you?”

“I thought you - oh, _fuck_ \- liked it when I did that,” panted Albus as he reached for another curtain hook. “You certainly never - oh, yes, _right there_ \- complained about it before.”

“True,” demurred Gellert, “very true. I do like a challenge and you, my gorgeous firebrand, are certainly that.” He paused in his movements, his fingers still inside Albus, apparently now deep in thought.

“Gellert,” Albus growled, “get on with it and stop being such a tease.”

“You’ve turned quite demanding of late, I hope you know,” returned Gellert, still making no attempt to move. “But I wonder, will you still be so calm, so... _unwavering_ ,” he drew the syllables out as Albus gulped and shivered again, “when I do this?” And then, with only a deep breath as a warning, he ran his tongue all the way up Albus’ hard and throbbing cock before wrapping his lips around the head and swallowing him down to the root.

“Merlin, Gellert!” cried Albus, the words exploding from him before he could check them. He clamped his mouth shut again and grabbed at the curtains again, resolutely sewing on the last few hooks as Gellert’s fingers once again began to move inside him.

He was so far gone that he almost didn’t hear the sitting room door opening and closing. As such, it was with no small amount of shock that, as he felt his orgasm building up inside him, he looked up and saw Bathilda standing opposite him with a concerned expression on her face.

“Are you all right dear?” she queried. “I was upstairs and I thought I heard you scream.”

“I’m fine,” Albus assured her. “I only,” he jumped as Gellert’s fingers slipped out of him, “I pricked myself quite unexpectedly. Nothing to worry about.”

“I see. And where is that wayward nephew of mine? I hope he didn’t run off and leave you alone to deal with the curtains - which, I must say, do look quite beautiful.”

Albus hoped that his blush could be taken as a response to the praise rather than because Gellert’s mouth was now trailing up his trembling thigh. “Oh, no, of - of course not,” he stammered. “I think he said he wanted to go and find a book he was looking at the other day. Apparently, he wanted to...improve on some old spells. He said we’re coming close to the twentieth century now and...surely we should be...making progress.”

Bathilda raised an eyebrow. “Really? He never spoke of such a thing to me.”

“Well, he’s only just,” Albus forced back a curse as Gellert nipped and sucked on his skin, “he’s only just started looking into it. But he can certainly be,” a white-hot spasm shot through him, taking his breath away for several seconds, “quite...creative with his magic.”

“Indeed.” Bathilda nodded and her eyes twinkled. “Well, I am very impressed with your sewing, dear. I should probably get you to redo all the furnishings in my house one day. Morgana knows, they certainly need updating.” She winked at him and slipped out again.

Albus shook his head as Gellert scrambled out from under the table. “Well, it looks like I’m going to end up as a hired tailor for your aunt. So much for starting a revolution.”

“Well, she is right,” said Gellert, running his fingers through the tassels on one of the sofa cushions. “These are getting a bit old and someone young and bright like you could make a real difference in here.” He sat down and watched Albus closely. “So, I’m creative with magic, am I?” he asked, his tone soft and amused.

Albus grinned and dropped onto the sofa next to him. “I think you know you are.”

“Yes, I suppose you’re right.” Gellert nudged their heads together and kissed Albus on the cheek. “By the way, I’m sorry I set your hair on fire.”

“I’m sorry I turned you into a dragon in the first place,” said Albus with a shrug.

Gellert smiled. “It wasn’t really as bad as I said it was,” he admitted. “Well. Apart from the part where...you know.”

“I temporarily vanished a rather important part of your anatomy?”

“Exactly, yes. But, on the other hand, I did get wings.”

“And it looked like you were starting to get used to them before I turned you back.”

“Well, you never know. Maybe we can try it again. After all,” Gellert pressed himself against Albus’ side, running one hand over his hip bone, “I saw a certain notebook of yours. I know you wrote that little spell down, didn’t you?”

“I might have done.” Albus shuddered and leaned into Gellert’s touch. “You never know when something like that might come in useful.”

“I quite agree. After all, you know there is a centuries old German saying, now how did it go again?” Gellert’s voice dropped to a low rumble in Albus’ ear. “Oh yes. Save a broom...ride a dragon.”

Albus laughed out loud, even as his cheeks flushed. “Does it count if the dragon is usually human?”

Gellert grinned, coming round to tug Albus into his lap. “Always,” he said as he leaned in for a kiss.


End file.
